


Hit the Road, Jack

by silentdescant



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Friendship/Love, M/M, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-30
Updated: 2011-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:32:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For <a href="http://glam-kink.livejournal.com/664.html?thread=332696">this prompt</a> on Glam_Kink. Nobody takes advantage of Adam's boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hit the Road, Jack

“How ‘bout another drink?”

Tommy gulps the one he has in his hand. He still has a fair amount left. He shakes his head.

“C’mon, I’ll buy.”

“Actually, I’m good.”

The guy—Tommy’s already forgotten his name—wraps his arm around Tommy’s waist and tries to pull him towards the bar. They make it a few steps before Tommy stumbles and jerks out of the dude’s grasp.

“Dance with me, then?”

“Not in the mood,” Tommy says shortly. The man’s bigger than him and starting to creep Tommy out, but he figures, they’re in public, nothing too bad can happen, and making the guy angry would probably create a bigger scene. Tommy finds a table and plops down. The man slides in next to him, leaning close.

“I’ll get another round.”

“I still have—”

The man taps Tommy’s nose. “No arguing!” he says cheerfully, like Tommy’s his little housewife or something. He moves away; Tommy watches him navigate through the crowd to the bar. As soon as the guy’s out of sight, Tommy stands up, looks around wildly for Adam and the rest of the group. Adam draws a crowd; Tommy can hide there.

He works his way closer to the table where Adam’s sitting like a king in a throne, holding court in a nightclub. He feels an arm on his shoulder, brushes it off. Then somebody grabs him and jerks him back through the crowd, out into the open air.

“I got you a drink,” the guy from before tells him happily. He thrusts it into Tommy’s free hand.

“I already have one,” Tommy says, holding up his half-finished beer. “Thanks, but you can have it.” He turns away. The man grabs him again.

“No, Tommy, come on.”

“Dude, stop.”

“Come sit with me. It’s too crowded over here.”

“I need to see my friends.”

“Tommy, come with me, come on, Tommy, come and dance.” He takes the beer out of Tommy’s hand, drains it in two long gulps. He pushes the new drink, something clear and cold but definitely not water, towards Tommy’s face. “Drink up, you’ll feel better.”

“I think I’ve had enough.”

“Aw, Tommy, are you really gonna turn down a free drink? Come on, let’s find somewhere quiet to sit and talk.”

The man tugs on his arm again and Tommy lashes out, smacking the empty glass out of his hand. The last few dribbles of beer splash onto the guy’s suede jacket; he looks shocked. He grabs Tommy’s arm, squeezes it tight, and yanks him away from everyone around Adam’s table. Tommy stares back at them longingly.

“Don’t waste my money, baby,” he says. “Drink up.” He snatches the glass out of Tommy’s hand and holds it to his lips.

Suddenly, they’re thrown forward. Tommy stumbles and falls to the ground, but the other man keeps his feet. Tommy looks up and sees Adam standing there, fierce and angry.

“He’s not your baby,” Adam says firmly.

“Back off.”

“You back off,” Adam snarls. “He said no.”

“He didn’t say anything.”

“He said no,” Adam says again. He shoves the guy in the chest, sending him back a few steps, then reaches down and pulls Tommy to his feet. “You alright, baby?”

“I need a drink,” Tommy mutters, sinking gratefully into Adam’s arms.

“Let’s avoid that one,” Adam says, nodding to the glass on the floor, the puddle of whatever it was spreading out around it.

“Hey!” The man surges towards them, really pissed off now, and slaps Adam’s hand off Tommy’s shoulder. “You can’t just swoop in and—”

“Actually, I can,” Adam says stonily. He turns to Tommy and grabs his chin, tilting his face up for a brutal, possessive kiss. His tongue plunders Tommy’s mouth, his fingers dig into Tommy’s throat, and Tommy’s knees go weak. When Adam finally pulls away, Tommy clings to him, gasping for air.

“He’s mine,” Adam tells the guy, his voice controlled and smooth, as if he hadn’t just sucked Tommy’s brain out through his mouth. “So stay the hell away.”

Adam tucks Tommy under his arm and walks him back to the table, where he sits down again and pulls Tommy into his lap. The noise level rises and the crowd of friends and fans closes in around them. Adam’s hand rests heavily on Tommy’s thigh, his fingers dipping between his legs to trace the inner seam of Tommy’s pants.

Tommy looks around, sees nothing but smiles around him. He looks at Adam, at the fire that still lights his eyes even though he’s laughing now. Tommy puts his hand over Adam’s, squeezing gently, then leans down and kisses Adam’s cheek.

“Thanks.”

Adam doesn’t look up at him, but his smile turns smug, satisfied. “Nobody messes with my boy.”

 

 _fin_.


End file.
